November 11, 2009, 3:30. Now the rain begins. Thankfully, the ceremonies this morning were held under blue skies trimmed with clouds of various shades of white and grey, but no sign of rain. I always tear up - its such a moving encounter to see soldiers young and old dressed in their best uniforms along with the band members playing sombre tunes. When I hear the hymns and join in, I am reminded of Sunday Mass. I am appalled at the numbers of closed mouths surrounding me as I strain to belt out my national anthem despite it being played in a key not best suited to my alto vocal range. I scan the audience for reassurance, and think I see in the distance across the street a few senior citizens moving their lips in synch with me. There was a time when we sang the national anthem and "God Save The Queen' every morning at school. Why did that cease? I think it was a worthy tradition. There are so few any more -- everyone's afraid of offending some ethnic group or other. As I departed, I was so appreciative of how blessed my life is. I'll go down to the creek in a bit and toast to lost friends and neighbours whose lives have touched me in beautiful ways.

On a slightly different note, but still with an ounce of segue, I show this image of a brooch that holds dear remembrances for me. It tends to live most of the time on the left lapel of a black cashmere jacket, which I purchased in Halifax over 25 years ago. My best friend in Halifax had just given birth to her daughter and I flew from in Vancouver to surprise her. Her mother is the most thoughtful and gracious woman and she had bought me a 'thank you' gift to show how much my presence was valued. When I saw the brooch I knew it would always remind me of those few days. I did not anticipate the numbers of compliments that it would receive over the intervening years. Every time someone comments on it, I think of H. and S. and H. So, finally, I can share it with all who read this blog; a truly treasured gift that has never tarnished in terms of the memory it evokes.

I watched, (unintentionally I must admit), a movie this afternoon, while sorting through binders and updating my school files. "Yanks" was aired today no doubt due to the subject matter of war. I don't know how I missed its release at the time, but perhaps I was meant to see it now at my age, rather than then. It was beautifully acted and served the purpose of keeping me company as I slogged through my papers. Its one of those that will stay with my for awhile to come. I came to realize the insidiousness of commercial advertising in that, had it been present during this presentation, I would have at some point likely changed the channel and missed all the good bits.

And so, to dinner..., a baked potato and whatever else the cupboard and/or fridge provides. I wish all of you well. Treasure at least one memory every day!
M